


Not Leaving, Not Going (Not Kissing You Goodbye)

by 3dgrace (fixwithgold)



Category: Bandom, My Darkest Days (Band), Three Days Grace (Band)
Genre: ALL ABOARD THE ANGST TRAIN, AU, Feelings, Flower Symbolism, M/M, Mentions of Car Accidents, Mentions of Drunk Driving, Pihstra, Sadness, alcohol consumption a lot, flower shop au, gracedom, rated for language and that’s about it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-01
Updated: 2019-12-31
Packaged: 2021-02-24 20:54:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22064227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fixwithgold/pseuds/3dgrace
Summary: Neil works at a little flower shop. Matt has been coming by for weeks during his lunch break, always to look around and then leave. One day, Neil decides to say hi.
Relationships: Neil Sanderson/Matt Walst
Kudos: 7





	1. Chapter 1

Neil heard the bell ring as someone pushed open the door. From his seated position against the wall behind the shop counter, he could only see the back of the man's head, but he knew from the fluffy blond hair that it was one of his regulars.

If you could call someone who'd come in during Neil's lunch break every day for the past two weeks just to look around and leave a "regular."

In any case, it'd been a long-ass time since the man first started showing up, and it was probably about time that Neil put down his sandwich and ask if he needed any help picking out a bouquet. So Neil shoved the half-eaten, slightly soggy meal back into its brown paper bag and clambered to his feet.

"Anything I can help you with?" he asked in his best Customer Service Voice, and shit, maybe he should've waited until the man didn't have his back turned because he whirled around and looked at Neil like he'd seen a ghost.

"Ugh, sorry, didn't mean to startle ya. I was just, uh, eating lunch and...yeah. Are you looking for anything in particular?"

The man blinked a few times, seemingly at a loss for words. Neil smiled awkwardly at him. His eyes were shockingly blue against the dark circles under them, suggesting many sleepless nights. Probably recently, Neil thought; they looked unnatural on his face, not like they were a permanent feature.

"Just looking around," the man finally said. It was somehow both a question and a statement in his voice, lilting and uncomfortable and tinged with barely-hidden sadness. A messy breakup, maybe. Or a death in the family. There weren't many other reasons to be so melancholy while buying flowers.

"Well, uh, if you need anything, my name's Neil. We just got in a new shipment of anemone." Neil held out his hand over the counter and regretted it almost immediately as that same stricken look passed over the man's face. But after a tense moment, he accepted the handshake.

"I'm Matt."

Neil tried to pretend he was busy while Matt browsed. Every once in a while he could swear he saw Matt sneaking glances at him, though that could've been wishful thinking. Neil scolded himself; he was probably grieving. The last thing the guy needed was some asshole coming on to him at a time like this.

Then again, Neil didn't know.

"What's this one?" Matt asked suddenly, startling Neil into dropping a handful of bouquet ties onto the floor with a soft clatter. Neil ignored them and looked over at the bright yellow flower Matt was holding like it was a primed grenade.

"That's a marigold. They use them for Day of the Dead celebrations, to uh, guide spirits to the afterlife. Because they're so bright."

Matt's fingers tightened around the flower's stem.

"Do you sell single flowers, or just bouquets?"

"As many as you want."

"Just the one."

Matt checked the price sticker on the marigold bin and placed a messy handful of cash and coins on the counter, still clutching the single flower. Neil deftly counted out the payment, glancing at Matt maybe one too many times while he did so.

"Hey, perfect. Alright, if that's all?..."

Matt was already nodding before he could even finish the statement.

"'Kay, you're good to go. See ya!"

'Tomorrow,' he wanted to say, but now that Matt had actually found what he'd seemed to be looking for, Neil wasn't sure he'd be back.


	2. Chapter 2

Neil shouldn't have been so disappointed when Matt didn't come in the next day, and shouldn't have been so happy when he did the day after that.

"Hey, nice to see you again," Neil said as Matt let the door swing shut behind him. "Matt, right?"

"Yeah."

"We got fresh marigolds in today, if you're interested," Neil said, examining a spot on the counter.

"Cool," Matt replied, pleasant but not meeting Neil's eyes.

For almost ten minutes, Matt wandered around the shop, examining everything and occasionally feeling a rose petal or a leaf. But he always gravitated back to a small selection of fragile white flowers.

Eventually, he picked out a clump and brought them over to Neil.

"Asphodel," Neil said. "This one's connected to the afterlife too, but it's Greek, I think."

"Guess I know how to pick 'em," Matt joked with a strained smile. "See ya."

"See ya."

Neil watched Matt go with a lump in his throat.

Asphodel. Loss and regret.

The next day, Matt came in wearing a Leafs shirt, and Neil decided to make some actual conversation.

"Nice shirt! You see the game last night?"

"Oh yeah. Tavares was on fuckin' fire."

And just like that, the awkward sales talk was over. Matt came in daily for a marigold or some asphodel and though he still had that sadness about him, Neil could see him through it. They exchanged phone numbers and talked sports and music—Matt was a musician,— and pets and weather and food, and Neil's heart beat a little faster whenever he visited.

One day Matt came in and Neil immediately noticed that his hair was black and straightened.

"Woah! Got tired of your hair matching your eyebrows?" he ribbed. Matt laughed and flipped him off.

"Seriously though," Neil said, "what's the occasion? Got a date who doesn't like your hair to be about as straight as I am?"

Wait. Shit.

Neil was fully prepared to backpedal and change the subject, and he was just about to do so, when—

"Depends, I guess. Wanna go to that taco place down the road?"

Neil hadn't been speechless in as long as he could remember, but now all he could do was gape at Matt. A joke, right? He was messing with him?

Matt didn't seem to mind how long Neil was taking to answer, and surely he should've laughed, just-kiddinged, gone about his business by now?

Finally Neil choked out a response.

"I love Mexican food." That was safe, probably. There's no way Matt was...there's no way Neil would be so lucky.

"Are you good to leave the shop? It doesn't really look like anyone else is ever here around now..."

Holy shit, Neil was actually this lucky.

"I uh, I'm actually allowed to close up for lunch, I just usually don't caus...yeah, we can go. Now?"

"Sure."

Neil grabbed his coat and the shop keys and followed Matt out the door, locking it behind them and mentally high-fiving himself.

"What do you want to drink?" Matt asked as they walked into the warm, aromatic atmosphere of the restaurant.

"Uh, a Sprite."

Matt ordered for them both at the counter while Neil grabbed a booth and brushed at his clothes to make sure he wasn't covered in potting soil. The place was busy, but not packed to capacity. Neil looked around at the people chatting, eating, and waiting for their food, a little nervous. Obviously he couldn't care less what people thought, but...he just wanted this to go well.

Matt slid into the seat across from him, placed two plastic drink cups and two straws on the table, and let his gaze roam around the room, looking everywhere but at Neil before finally settling on his face.

"I just got us a basket of tacos," he said, brushing a strand of hair out of his eyes.

"All food should come in baskets," Neil responded without really thinking about it. He picked up his drink and popped the lid off to take a sip.

"Is this okay?" Matt asked.

"Yeah, I just don't like straws."

"No, I mean..." Matt laughed and the smile didn't reach his eyes. Neil frowned at how gloomy he suddenly looked. "Is it okay that we're on a date. I was nervous so I sorta just went for it when you said..."

"Man, I've been majorly crushing on you since you started coming into the shop. Honestly, I kinda think I'm dreaming."

"Me too," Matt quietly admitted, and something in his face made it seem like the statement had hurt.

"So, um," Neil continued, just to keep the silence at bay, "have you been here before?"

"Yeah, a couple times!" Matt said, all-too-willing to join him in that pursuit. "My band and I come here after shows every once in a while caus they're open late."

"I listened to some of your music after work yesterday! Not doing too bad for yourselves, eh?"

Matt grinned, a real, beaming smile that could only be described as contagious.

"Not too bad. What'd you think of it?" he asked.

"Thought you were straight, that's for sure!"

"You and everyone else," Matt laughed. "For a while at least."

A waitress came over with their food and placed it on the table with a polite smile at Matt. Neil raised an eyebrow as she walked away.

"Damn, dude. Check and see if she wrote her phone number on the paper," Neil ribbed, flicking the layer of paper lining the basket and grabbing a taco. Matt blew the wrapper off a straw at Neil and stabbed the straw into the lid of his drink.

"How is it?" he asked, before picking a taco up for himself.

"It's awesome. How'd you know I live for tacos?"

A flash of some emotion Neil didn't quite understand crossed Matt's face. He shrugged and smiled.

"Who doesn't?"

When they were done, Matt insisted on paying.

"I asked you out, so I get to pay!" he said, and though Neil felt a little ridiculous, he relented.

"Fine, but next time I'm getting it. If it wasn't noon I'd ask if you wanted to go get some drinks, but...you free tonight?"

Matt shook his head regretfully.

"Band practice."

"How about tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow too. We have a gig coming up soon, so we're trying to make sure we're ready."

As they parted ways outside the restaurant without arranging a time to meet for drinks, Neil glanced back at Matt with a pit in his stomach. That had felt like it went well enough, but maybe Matt just wasn't in the right mindset for...dating. If that's what he'd had in mind in the first place.

Not for the first time, Neil wondered if he would see Matt again.


	3. Chapter 3

He wondered the same the next day.

And the next.

And just as he'd been ready to start putting those blue eyes and that brilliant smile out of his mind, he got to work on Saturday to find a flowerpot sitting on the counter. Not one of theirs, either; it was a black plastic one meant for transplanting. Neil approached it curiously to get a better look at the bright purple morning glory in the pot and found a card hidden in the cluster of stems. It was a small, nondescript piece of cardstock folded in half, with Neil's name written in pen on the front.

Neil's chest started to ache from holding his breath as he unfolded the card and read the short note inside: an address, tomorrow's date, and a time, followed by "-Matt" were all the card contained.

He read the note again as if to make sure he hadn't missed anything, then gingerly folded it back up and slipped it into his pocket. He knew the address Matt had given him; it was a bar that often hosted live bands, about a fifteen minute walk from his house. Neil's fingers itched to take the note back out and read it again, but instead he poked at the soil in the flowerpot. Finding it to be too dry, he brushed a thumb over one of the purple petals and walked off to get some water for the plant.

It drew him back like a moth to a flame. Neil had to keep himself from glancing around to make sure nobody was watching him, since that would've been a weirder thing to do than inspect the flowers again anyway. He carefully lifted up the lowermost leaves and saturated the soil with filtered water from the can they kept in a cabinet behind the counter.

That finished, he reached into his pocket for the note. His fingers brushed his phone first. On an impulse, he clicked it open and sent Matt a text.

 _Giving_ _business_ _to_ _my_ _competitor_ _now_ _eh?_

Neil's eyes were glued to the screen as "Read 8:47" pushed his message farther up, and those three dots appeared.

 _Just_ _this_ _once!_ _See_ _you_ _there?_

 _Hell_ _yeah_ , _can't_ _wait_

Neil hit the backspace button over and over.

 _Hell_ _yeah_ , _seeya_

Ugh.

 _Absolutely_ , _can't_ _wait_

No, that was worse.

He retyped the first version and hit send.

The rest of the day was torture. Of course no customers showed up to distract him while he was on the clock, because it was the middle of the day in fucking January.

The next day was no better, and the closer it got to 7:30, the more jittery Neil got. Which was so stupid, he kept reminding himself, because Matt would be busy playing and they wouldn't even talk until after he was done. So to pass the time, he sorted some paperwork at the shop, went home and took a longer shower than he needed to, and scrolled through Facebook until it was time to get going.

The night was a cold one, so much so that Neil almost wished he'd driven instead. But the downtown area was busy in general, and on Friday nights he'd be lucky to park as close as five blocks away. And he was trying to save on gas anyway. Neil rubbed his hands together to keep them warm and walked a little faster, grateful for his last-minute choice to throw a black button-up shirt on over his tee before he'd grabbed a jacket and headed out the door.

All the streets around the bar were packed full of cars. Neil laughed a little at a disgruntled-looking college student trying and failing to parallel park in front of a pottery studio.

He wondered briefly which car was Matt's, but shook himself of the thought. They probably unloaded all their gear in back, so that's where he would've put his car. If he drove. Neil didn't actually know.

The bar was already buzzing by the time he walked in, and he'd be damned if he wasn't looking to join it in that. He ordered a beer when the bartender got around to him and quickly finished it off to order another.

He was nursing his second drink when people started moving around on the little stage at the back of the room. Neil only saw the movement out of the corner of his eye, and had to force himself to look up with a normal amount of interest.

He didn't recognize the guy who had started setting up a drum set, or the one unfurling a cable onto the stage. Maybe Matt wouldn't even show until they started a song. Neil took a sip of his beer, trying not to squirm or crane his neck to see around people who kept walking in front of him.

There he was. With a microphone stand and wearing...something?

Neil actually laughed out loud at Matt's zebra-striped pants. Then Matt turned to look out at the rest of the bar and for a moment Neil forgot about the concept of noise and thought somehow he'd heard him laugh. But Matt just scanned over the crowd, laughed at something one of his bandmates said in passing, then continued lugging the stand onstage.

Neil downed the rest of his drink and ran off to hit the bathroom before they started playing. When he got back, the college kid who couldn't parallel park had taken his seat.

Whatever; he had been planning on moving closer to the stage anyway.

He ordered a martini and looked around the room while he waited, looking for a table to claim.

Instead he saw Matt again, who also seemed to be looking around the room. Looking for Neil?

Probably just surveying the audience, Neil told himself. He nodded thanks to the bartender who handed him his drink and sat down a fair distance from where the last part of the setup was happening.

The drummer started checking the sound on his drums with loud, slow hits, and the rest of the crowd quieted for a moment before realizing it was a false alarm. Neil closed his eyes and took a sip of his martini, enjoying the sharp flavor.

It was a little strange, being here alone. Waiting for the music to start instead of talking to anyone was awkward, but he didn't want Matt to get the wrong idea. He wasn't about to start flirting with someone random at an event he'd been invited to by someone he'd already been on a date with.

Neil ran through that day in his mind just to make sure Matt had actually called that a date. He caught himself before he could actually nod when he was satisfied that he was remembering it correctly.

At last, everything was ready for the band. Matt was the last to go up. The bar patrons quieted a little, but not entirely.

"Hey everyone, we're My Darkest Days and we're gonna be playing a few songs for you tonight! Hope none of you are here with your parents, or this is gonna get awkward."

Neil laughed with the rest of the crowd. Those that were paying attention, at least. The band started to play. Neil didn't recognize the song, and the ambient noise obscuring it wasn't helping. He resolved to listen to Matt's music more and focused on the beat instead, appreciating his voice and the instruments complimenting it.

At some point, when Neil was a few more drinks in, the mood shifted. Matt stood still at the front of the stage, almost somber. Both hands clutched the microphone in its stand as he began to sing, ignoring the guitar he'd been using earlier. Neil could only catch a few lines, but he could tell it was a sadder song.

 _Does_ _it_ _hurt_ _when_ _you_ _breathe_ _too_? _Caus_ _it_ _does_ _when_ _I_ _do_

 _It's_ _been_ _forever_ _and_ _I_ _can't_ _forget_ _you_

 _All_ _I_ _do_ _is_ _think_ _about_ _you_

 _Stop_ _haunting_ _my_ _dreams_  
 _Please_ _set_ _me_ _free_

And almost as soon as it had begun, it was over. Matt thanked the crowd and they launched back into something upbeat. But for a moment as the song ended, Neil could have sworn Matt locked eyes with him.

The song after the sad one was their last. Neil hoped they'd just leave their stuff onstage and come disperse onto the bar floor, but they hustled everything off first. At last, Neil felt a tap on his shoulder and turned around to see...nobody. When he turned back, Matt was sitting in front of him with a glass of whiskey and a grin.

"Gotcha."

"Well that takes me back to junior high," Neil said. He nodded in the direction of the stage. "You guys were great up there!"

"Thanks, man. Cheers!"

The two clinked their glasses together.

"I'd introduce you to my band," Matt said, "but we're all gonna get so wasted they'll just forget your name anyway."

"Fair enough. Promise you won't forget me tonight?" Neil joked.

There it was again, that inscrutable expression that thoroughly destroyed the levity of the situation and made Neil scramble to figure out what horribly wrong thing he'd just said in order to fix it.

"Like your song, yknow?"

"Yeah!" Matt laughed the moment off and hid his face behind his pint that he seemed to be an expert in finishing off quickly, leaving Neil more than a little on edge.

"You sent me morning glories," he said, just to continue diffusing the tension.

"Did I?" Matt replied under a veneer of faux confusion.

"Mhm, with a little note. Pretty impressive actually, because those aren't usually available at this time of year."

"I wanted to be a little dramatic, especially after I couldn't follow up on the restaurant date. I hope it didn't seem like I was avoiding you."

"Not at all, man. You're good. How about we get some more drinks and see where the night goes?"

So they did. Neil was happy to discover that Matt wasn't a lightweight by any means. If he didn't know better, he might even say that Matt was a little better than him at holding his liquor. A little. As the night went on, the hesitation that Matt always seemed to carry around his shoulders like his guitar slipped away, bit by bit.

"Where'd you get those pants?" Neil asked, not caring that he laughed a little too loud while he did so. "And are you gonna give that zebra its skin back?"

"Never!" Matt vowed. "They're part of the look!"

"Crazed pimp?"

A man with a mohawk stumbled over to their table. It took Neil a moment, but he recognized him as one of the guys from Matt's band.

"Matt! We're going to a party, c'mon!"

Neil wiggled his eyebrows at Matt, who made a barely perceptible face at him.

"I'm gonna pass tonight, Sal."

"A girl I was talking to asked for you specifically," Sal said, drawling out the words like he was trying to convince a kid to eat his vegetables.

"Get her number for me?" Matt said. Sal nodded vigorously and slapped Matt on the shoulder several times.

"I'll get her number, yeah! I'll give you, uh, I'll TEXT!"

"Hey, don't drive, alright?" Matt said, accepting a very uncoordinated high five from Sal.

"Yeah yeah, we called an Uber, it's cool! Catch you later!"

Neil laughed when Sal stumbled away.

"You were right about it being better not to try and introduce us tonight," he remarked, and finished off the rest of his drink. Matt shook his head with a small smile and leaned back to see if Sal had made it across the room successfully.

"We're all partiers," he said.

"But you're not going."

"I guess I haven't been as into it recently."

"Why not?"

Shit. He hadn't meant to ask that. Matt rested his chin on his fist and sighed.

"Honestly? I've just been dealing with some stuff and it's hard to have fun when I'm always thinking about other things."

Neil traced a finger around the rim of his glass. He wanted so badly to ask what Matt was going through, what had originally brought him to the flower shop, what was weighing on him so heavily, but he killed the questions before they could escape. It was too soon to be asking those sorts of things, and Neil desperately wanted to avoid anything that would make Matt pull away.

"But hey, I have plenty of time to party with the guys. Right now, I'm busy," Matt said, and Neil felt like he'd been punched in the stomach. How could anyone make him feel like he'd had all the air driven from his lungs with only words?

But it wasn't only words. It was everything about him. The way he talked, the way he smiled, everything. Maybe he was just drunk, but Neil didn't care; it felt like what he said next would be the most important thing he would ever say.

"You can have plenty of time with me too, if you want."

Neil released the breath he didn't know he was holding when Matt smiled softly at him.

"Yeah. I think I do."


	4. Chapter 4

Life couldn't have been more perfect after the night at the bar. Neil had woken up late the next morning with a vicious hangover and the terrible feeling that he had scared Matt away. But when he picked up his phone and groaned at the screen's brightness, he found a text from Matt.

_i_ _didnt_ _dream_ _last_ _night_ , _right_?

Neil laughed out loud.

_Was_ _just_ _thinking_ _the_ _same_ _thing_ , _but_ _I_ _feel_ _like_ _shit_ _today_ _so_ _it_ _mustve_ _been_ _real_

And for a month afterwards, Neil was still pinching himself to make sure he was awake. Matt came to visit the shop every day during Neil's lunch break, and though Matt didn't have very many shows scheduled, Neil promised he'd be at every one.

For a man whose most popular song was called Casual Sex, Matt didn't seem particularly concerned with getting more physical in their relationship (not that Neil would have minded). If anything, he was the one who hesitated, who checked to make sure Neil was on board with what he was doing. Neil didn't push, and Matt seemed happy.

Then one cloudy Thursday, Matt came into the shop and Neil could see that he had been crying.

"Matt, what's wrong?" he asked. Matt rubbed his eye with the palm of his hand, as if he was trying to get rid of the redness Neil had already seen.

"I'm just having a rough day," Matt said.

"Is there anything I can do? Do you want to talk about it?"

Neil abandoned his lunch and pulled a few chairs out of the back room for them to sit on. He put his arm around Matt, who leaned in and gave a shuddering sigh.

"Remember when I first started coming in to buy flowers?" he asked.

"Of course."

"They were for..." he wiped at his eyes again, and Neil hugged him tighter. "The last person I dated, he...he died."

Neil suddenly felt like there was a belt tightening around his chest as Matt's voice broke on the last word. They sat without speaking for a while, Neil listening to Matt's ragged breathing.

"At first I visited his grave pretty often, but it hurt so much I thought it would be better if I stopped," Matt continued. He shook his head. "It hasn't been. I need to go today."

"Do you want me to come with you?" Neil asked softly.

"No!"

Neil recoiled, taken aback by the outburst. Matt pushed away from him and stood up, fists clenching the collar of his sweatshirt, facing away from Neil like something from a horror movie.

A beat of terrible silence, then Matt turned to face Neil again with tears rolling down his cheeks and what might have been fear in his eyes.

"I'm sorry," he gasped. "I'm sorry, I just, I shouldn't have—"

"Hey, it's alright," Neil said. Matt all but collapsed back into his arms. They sat in almost-silence again. The questions that had been running rampant in Neil's mind faded into the minutes they spent sitting there, daring the world to interrupt. He would have stayed there forever if Matt needed to.

“I’m not ready.”

“When you are, I’ll be here. I promise.”

Matt fell silent.


	5. Chapter 5

Neil was afraid that he’d unwittingly start tiptoeing around Matt after that day, but it was Matt whose behavior changed. The least of it was that he started picking out flowers to take with him again. He apologized for everything, things that didn’t warrant an apology. He still agreed to seeing movies together, but often turned down lunch and dinner dates. And then apologized. 

When he didn’t answer or even read any of Neil’s texts on a random Saturday, Neil tried not to worry. He failed miserably and got in his car to go check on him at his apartment. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting. He just hoped he was overreacting. 

As it turned out, he was. Matt opened his door, looking momentarily surprised to see Neil but otherwise fine. 

“Sorry if you’ve been texting me, my phone died and I’ve been trying to find my charger all day. I swear I put it on my table but...come in!” He stepped back to let Neil into the apartment, which was slightly messier than usual in that I’m-overturning-things-to-find-something way, but still as meticulously clean as usual. 

“You check your car yet?” Neil asked. 

“Ugh, yeah. I’m just hoping I didn’t leave it at my doctor’s office, caus if I did I’m gonna have to get a new one.” 

“Someone could’ve found it and had them hold it at the front desk, maybe.” 

“I guess I could ask when I go back next week,” Matt said, then waited. Neil got the feeling he was gauging for a reaction, and he settled on a quizzical look for that reaction. 

“I’ve been doing therapy recently,” Matt admitted. “I think it’s really been helping.” 

“That’s great, man!” 

“Yeah. I’ve been talking about it and...I think if you’re still okay with it, I don’t want to go to the grave alone anymore.” 

“‘course! Do you want to go today?” 

“Not today. I planned to go at some point on Tuesday.” 

“Works for me!” And though technically it might’ve been a little weird to go visit the grave of his partner’s previous partner, Neil was genuinely thrilled that Matt had been able to work through some of what had been bothering him. For a while, he’d been worried that one day Matt would say that actually, he wasn’t ready to move on, that he couldn’t see Neil like this anymore. He was more than happy to support him in trying to find closure. 

Matt cooked dinner for them that night, and he couldn’t have been happier.


	6. Chapter 6

Neil was afraid that he’d unwittingly start tiptoeing around Matt after that day, but it was Matt whose behavior changed. The least of it was that he started picking out flowers to take with him again. He apologized for everything, things that didn’t warrant an apology. He still agreed to seeing movies together, but often turned down lunch and dinner dates. And then apologized. 

When he didn’t answer or even read any of Neil’s texts on a random Saturday, Neil tried not to worry. He failed miserably and got in his car to go check on him at his apartment. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting. He just hoped he was overreacting. 

As it turned out, he was. Matt opened his door, looking momentarily surprised to see Neil but otherwise fine. 

“Sorry if you’ve been texting me, my phone died and I’ve been trying to find my charger all day. I swear I put it on my table but...come in!” He stepped back to let Neil into the apartment, which was slightly messier than usual in that I’m-overturning-things-to-find-something way, but still as meticulously clean as usual. 

“You check your car yet?” Neil asked. 

“Ugh, yeah. I’m just hoping I didn’t leave it at my doctor’s office, caus if I did I’m gonna have to get a new one.” 

“Someone could’ve found it and had them hold it at the front desk, maybe.” 

“I guess I could ask when I go back next week,” Matt said, then waited. Neil got the feeling he was gauging for a reaction, and he settled on a quizzical look for that reaction. 

“I’ve been doing therapy recently,” Matt admitted. “I think it’s really been helping.” 

“That’s great, man!” 

“Yeah. I’ve been talking about it and...I think if you’re still okay with it, I don’t want to go to the grave alone anymore.” 

“‘course! Do you want to go today?” 

“Not today. I planned to go at some point on Tuesday.” 

“Works for me!” And though technically it might’ve been a little weird to go visit the grave of his partner’s previous partner, Neil was genuinely thrilled that Matt had been able to work through some of what had been bothering him. For a while, he’d been worried that one day Matt would say that actually, he wasn’t ready to move on, that he couldn’t see Neil like this anymore. He was more than happy to support him in trying to find closure. 

Matt cooked dinner for them that night, and he couldn’t have been happier.

Sunday and Monday passed in a blur of work and fitful sleep. On Tuesday, Neil heard the bell ring as Matt pushed open the door. He’d been crying again, and he let the door swing shut without saying anything. 

Neil had moved Matt’s preferred flowers to the front of the selection, along with a few other options. He picked out a couple of marigolds, then surveyed the rest of the selection. A bundle of white flowers with silver and green leaves caught his eye. 

“Cyclamen,” he murmured. Neil blinked, but brushed off the surprise and nodded. 

“Yeah. You ready?”

Matt shook his head. 

“No,” he said, and Neil understood. 

The cemetery was within walking distance of the downtown area, over by one of the highway exits. Neil locked up the shop and pulled his coat tighter around him. The weather forecast that morning hadn’t said it would be any colder than usual, and it wasn’t windy, but somehow it felt like December had returned with a vengeance. 

The closer they got to their destination, the slower Matt started to walk. Every few steps he took seemed to cause him more and more pain. Neil wondered if it was like this every time. 

“Would it help if we talked?” he asked softly. 

“It was an accident,” Matt whispered. Neil took his hand and found it to be ice-cold. “A car drifted off into the wrong lane going 70 and hit him head-on. He died on impact.” 

They passed through the iron gates of the cemetery and Matt’s grip on Neil’s hand tightened. The whole area was mournfully empty except for the flowers adorning the grave markers, some bright and hopeful, some limp and wilted. 

Neil slowed to let Matt take the lead in whichever direction they were going.

“He liked music and sports,” Matt continued, his voice breaking painfully. “And being outdoors, and complaining about the snow. And I loved him.” 

They came to a stop at a flat marker—bordered by the asphodel Matt had left on it on his last visit—on the corner of two of the walking paths. 

“I love you, Neil.” 

Neil’s vision tunneled as he read the name on the stone. 

His own name. 

“You’ve been gone for four months. I didn’t expect to see you at the shop you worked at, but when I did, I thought maybe if I talked to you I would feel better.” 

Neil read the stone over and over again, not believing his eyes. It was all he could look at. 

“But then you didn’t know you were dead, and I missed you so much that I started to pretend you weren’t.” 

The woman at the restaurant hadn’t looked at him. Matt had insisted on paying. Sal hadn’t acknowledged him. 

Neil looked down to see that he had fallen to his knees. Next to him, Matt was kneeling too, his bundle of flowers having fallen to the ground in front of him. 

“I have to let you go, Neil,” Matt cried. “You can’t stay anymore, you have to go!” 

“I don’t want to leave you,” Neil said, his voice echoing in his own ears as if he was speaking through a tunnel. Matt’s tearstained face was all he could see, his peripheral vision blurring out and fading. 

“We can’t go on,” Matt whispered. “We can’t.” 

He picked up the bundle of flowers and pressed it to Neil’s chest. Neil shook his head, but Matt only pushed harder until he took them. 

“Marigolds to guide you, and cyclamen—“ 

“Means resignation,” Neil said. 

Matt hung his head and sobbed, and Neil looked at the flowers in his hands. His own skin looked dull and lifeless next to them, next to Matt’s. His body was numb. 

“Matt,” he said. Matt looked up at him. “I love you.” 

“I love you too,” Matt whispered. “I wanted you to know that one last time.” 

“And now I have to go.” 

Neil embraced Matt and closed his eyes as he felt himself fading away.

**Author's Note:**

> Kissing You Goodbye by The Used and Can’t Forget You by My Darkest Days were my big inspiration songs for this fic. I cried writing it, kind of a lot.


End file.
